Drugs and John
by johnlockingsuperwhovian
Summary: Just a one-shot about Sherlock's relapse after John and Mary's wedding with i am fIRMLY AGAINTS THANKYOU VERY MUCH. Johnlock of course :3 x


**_*Sherlock's_********_POV*_**__

I felt it travel through my veins.  
Intoxicating, addictive.  
I pursed my lips as if to exhale smoke, but instead a long wavering breath escaped.  
My thoughts were scattered, jumping from one place to the other.  
I looked to the ceiling, eyes fluttering.  
"John."  
The word that escaped my lips was breathy and hard to understand, it was like a jumble of letters thrown into a blender.  
But I knew what it was-or, to be precise-who.  
"Last time we spoke he said to not let anyone up here",came a voice, Mrs Hudson's,"Though it's been months since I've even heard a footstep in that apartment. I leave biscuits and tea up there every night, I suppose that's the only way I know he's up there. Always an empty plate when I go up to bring a new one. It's like he's isolated himself all over again, won't even go out for a case-".  
"Again?",interrupted a different voice, a soft one, with a hard tone layered beneath it.  
John. John, John, John, John.  
I'm saying it like a trance, like if I say it enough, this nightmare will simply fade away.  
"Yes, he used to be quite like this before he met you I think, though he'd actually go out for cases and such but-".  
"I'll be heading up now",John interrupted yet again.  
"Oh yes of course dear".  
I listened as her footsteps echoed away, and as the former soldiers ones climbed up stairs.  
"Sherlock?",he called, words bouncing off the walls.  
I ignored his voice and lazily looked down at my body.  
Small, red dots.  
Scars, new and old.  
Dried blood, fresh blood.  
Attempts that long failed.  
Battle scars.  
Suicide attempts.  
The natural living habits of an insane man.  
Or a high-functioning sociopath.  
"Sherlock I know you're up here. Sherl-?".  
He stopped abruptly.  
I would have slammed my head against the shower tiles if I hadn't already done it earlier this morning.  
He was most likely looking at my little..._domain.  
_His footsteps advanced again, quicker, with more haste.  
Gingerly, my bedroom door opened.  
I forgot how beautiful he looked in the sunlight.  
"You saw then",I croaked, mentally slapping myself at how weak I sounded.  
His warm brown eyes shattered my pale blue ones.  
"Why do you do this to yourself, Sherlock?".  
"You were gone I saw an opportunity-".  
"Shut up! Don't give me that crap! You're either talking to me now, or I'm calling Mycr-".  
"NO! NO YOU SHUT UP",I heard myself shout.  
Angrily, and wobbly, I got to my feet.  
"You want to know why, I did this? John? I did it, because of you! You and Mary and every other stupid thing in this entire world!".  
"I don't-".  
"I _GAVE _YOU, EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING I COULD POSSIBLY EVER GIVE SOMEONE. AND YOU THREW IT AWAY LIKE IT WAS _NOTHING. _YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW THAT FEELS, JOHN. NO IDEA."  
I forced myself to pace, ignoring the pain running through my muscles.  
My voice was harsh and on the verge of being broken.  
"I could have died for you-hell I did. I killed a man just so the woman I envy-I envy so much, could be with _you. _And you're asking me why I'm doing this? Really? I thought you were much smarter than that Mr I-have-a-goddamn-degree-in-medicine."  
"How was I supposed to even know?!",John exclaimed, eyes wide from half shock half anger.  
"WELL IT'S BLOODY OBVIOUS WHEN THE MAN YOU ARE LIVING WITH GIVES YOU HIS HEART."  
Silence.  
And whispers.  
"You know I planned your wedding. Mary, Mary didn't I just gave her the credit".  
A knot tied in my throat.  
"I left the wedding early, I didn't want-I couldn't watch you-I just couldn't",I laughed bitterly,"Look how well that turned out for me".  
John's fists were clenched, his eyes glassy against the light, or maybe it was tears.  
I wouldn't know.  
"Sherlock, you-".  
"I couldn't handle the pain of losing you then and I still can't now,"I turned slightly to look at him, my vision a little hazy,"Is that a good enough answer for you, Doctor Watson?".  
"Is it good enough?! Sherlock, you-you..".  
I watched as he slammed his hand down on the bed frame, breathing deeply, probably trying to stay calm.  
He spoke.  
"You, you're an utter idiot. You know that, right? Utter idiot."  
If there were such a thing as bliss, it would have been then.  
His arms encircled my-shockingly thin-body, chin resting on my messy head of curls despite the hight difference.  
I opened my mouth to speak but stopped.  
"Sherlock, just shut up."

And I did.


End file.
